“Oh, that’s different; very different,” he said in tones of hasty apology. “I did not suppose it was a matter of any importance.”
“I don’t waste my time or encroach upon that of others with unimportant matters,” Chick replied coldly. “Have a look at the coupon now, and give me the information I want, if possible. Can you tell who occupied the seat?”
“Well, really, sir, I hardly think so,” Hewitt now said regretfully. “In a theater of this size——”
“Stop a moment, sir,” interrupted his assistant, who was also inspecting the coupon. “This was torn from a ticket sold by telephone and held until called for. Here is a mark of my indelible pencil on the back of it.”
“Do you write the patron’s name on the back of a ticket when it is to be held till called for?” asked Chick.
“Yes, certainly. But only the tail of the last letter happened to fall on the coupon,” said the assistant. “It contains no part of the name. See for yourself.”
“Very true,” Chick admitted. “But what has become of that part of the ticket taken at the door?”
“The stubs?”
“If that’s what you call them. Have they been destroyed? No two coupons are torn off exactly alike. We might find the ticket that this coupon perfectly matches, as well as these pencil lines, that would give us the name of the purchaser.”
“By Jove, sir, that’s as true as gospel!” Hewitt declared. “No, the stubs have not been destroyed. I threw them into my wastebasket last evening after making up the house. They still are there.”